When I was a young man in the midst of my homosexual struggles and my dysfunctional family, I made a silent vow.  I pledged that, if I could help it, “no one would ever hurt like I hurt”.  It was my way of rationalizing all the childhood trauma of early sexualization and emotional neglect God allowed into my life.  It wasn’t a flippant statement.  The branding iron of pain left an indelible mark on my soul.   Jesus eventually healed the hurt and the Holy Spirit soothed my pain, but the scars remained; reminders of my promise, a vow made in the fiery furnaces of my personal hell.

            Over the past few days God has brought two guys struggling with Same Sex Attraction into our lives.   Back in the day, when my own struggle led me from one relationship to another, I would have used these men to meet my own needs and led two souls further astray.   When I sit across the table from a man with SSA these days, God allows me to see the guy through His eyes.  The stories I hear on a weekly basis break my heart anew.  The stories aren’t new or unique.  They are often simply the rehashed schemes of satan.   he has been using them for years to convince men and women who struggle with SSA that they are indeed “different”, “born that way” or “gifted by God with a unique sexuality”.   Gaga and the gay agenda may have the masses by the throat, but on occasion God allows one or two to slip through the cracks and make their way out of bondage.  That is where our ministry steps in.    

            Jesus Christ followed me all the while I was building a kingdom around my sexuality.  He put up with me as I profaned his name as a “gay Christian”.  Ultimately, in January of 1999, after two months of rampant pornography use the Holy Spirit posed the following question to me, “How can you call yourself a gay Christian?  I see plenty of gay, but not a lot of Christian. “  That was the turning point for me.  I knew it was true.  I was a gay Christian in name only.  In my heart I knew I was both.  I also knew that both wasn’t possible or biblical.  I surrendered my life and my sexuality at that point.  One night in my bedroom just me and God. 

            In a sense, Jesus saved my life that day and the lives of every man I would have potentially slept with or led astray with my skewed biblical ideas.  The only modifier that should precede the word Christian in our lives is ‘devout’ or ‘soldout’.  Any other prefix stifles our responsibility to surrender and submit every sinful aspect of our life to the Perfect Sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  At the end of the day, my identity is not in my sexuality, it is in Jesus Christ.

            My surrender brought about one of the loneliest, most amazing years of my Christian walk.  I had spent ten years in the gay life programming every second of every waking moment with activity in an effort to block out the whispers of God.  Ten years later, out of sheer exhaustion, I collapsed on to my bed, broke and spent.  My ex boyfriend told me he thought I might be depressed.  Ah depression, one of the many side effects of running from God.

            An active sense of pride in our world today occludes the pathway to Jesus.  Day after day, we maintain the perimeter fences surrounding our darkened hearts.   We grieve the Holy Spirit who was sent to be our comforter, not our referee.   Surrender and submit my weary travelers.  The battle you are fighting has no meaning and no end.  Jesus Christ came so that you could have life and life more abundantly.  The bible says it best in Romans 10:13 “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”  

Advertisements